


Crunchwrap Supreme

by vacationer



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dialogue Heavy, Drunk Victor Nikiforov, Drunkenness, Flirting, Hanging Out, M/M, Memories, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Party, Recreational Drug Use, Taco Bell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 14:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16725270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vacationer/pseuds/vacationer
Summary: Victor wakes up to Yuri pressing a Crunchwrap Supreme into his face. “Wh’,” he flinches, neck stiff and mouth dry. The carpet is rough against his cheek and his back. He fell asleep on the floor. “Oh no,” he groans. “please tell me no one drew on my face,”





	Crunchwrap Supreme

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I totally just shat this out tonight. I had no plot going into it, so it's kind of fucky. Sorry for the lack of consistency, I tried my best.
> 
> Also this is NOT OTAYURI. They’re friends dude. Yuri is 16, Otabek is 19. They’re friends. 
> 
> Also, EXTREMELY Americanized, because I am a dumb American. I put Yuuri's last name last, though I do know that it's a Japanese thing to do last name first, but this is so Americanized, I thought it might be appropriate. If it is not, please let me know!!!!
> 
> Thanks yall  
> Enjoy

Victor’s not sure who’s apartment he’s in, but he’s extremely glad to be out of the loud, crowded, sweaty basement party Chris had brought him to. He enjoys drinking and messy grinding just as much as anyone else, but someone threw up while they were dancing, a fight started in the driveway, someone said something about police, and that’s when his group decided to leave. 

His mind is still buzzing with alcohol, Chris tugging him through the unfamiliar kitchen by the belt loop of his black jeans, shoving a cup (kids, plastic, from Red Robin) of water into his hand. He takes a sip, and another, and then dumps the water into his mouth and on his face, dripping down his chest. Chris stares at him in awe, shock and mild horror on his face before he begins to laugh. It makes Victor laugh too, more water leaking from the corners of his lips and drenching his shirt. Chris stops him from taking it off. He needs to stop drinking. 

“What the fuck...” Victor looks past Chris at Yuri, who’s resting against the counter, phone in his hands and car keys around his finger. He glares at Victor, shaking his head. “You didn’t pay me _nearly_ enough to drive your dumbass around all night.” He scoffs. 

“You just don’t know how to have fun,” Victor retorts, but if he were in Yuri’s shoes—his sober, junior in high school, driving his ex-babysitter and his drunk ass friends around shoes—he would have refused his twenty dollar bill and Taco Bell gift card (that he found under the passenger seat of his car. He’s not even sure how much is on it) without giving it a second thought. 

Yuri rolls his eyes, flicks his hair out of his face, and wanders away to go find somewhere to sit. 

“C’mon dude,” Suddenly Chris is handing Victor another cup of water. “Drink that. You’re drunk.”

“You’re drunk,” Victor tells him, feeling Chris’s hand rest on the small of his back and push him out of the kitchen. Victor presses a hand to JJ’s chest as he passes him looking through the cabinets, letting his fingers drag a little bit as he’s moved further. JJ slaps his hand away.

“Not nearly as drunk as you,” Chris smiles, and Victor stops to turn and kiss his jaw. Chris lets him do it but follows it up with a rough shove, and water sloshes out of his Red Robin cup. It makes Victor stop and frown at the puddle spread out over faux linoleum tiles and tan carpet. 

“I’m not that drunk,” he argues, a couple of beats too late, and Chris just pats his back and turns to get paper towels. Victor stares at the water and feels sadness surge in his chest, it makes him want to take off his shirt. It’s wet anyway, so he does, setting it on the counter. Chris turns to him with the towels, shaking his head. “Already lost the shirt?” Victor nods and smiles, because he knows he’s a delight.

“Go sit down,” Chris tells him, and though it frustrates Victor, as he wants to _do_ something, he complies. There’s not a lot of people here, but he knows most of them well. Victor pregamed with Chris, JJ, and Mickey, only to call Yuri to beg him to drive them to pick up Emil (who notified Mickey of the party). Victor holds his Red Robin cup with two hands and carries himself to sit next to Leo on the floor (who apparently invited them over). He leans forward to set his cup down on the worn wooden coffee table, sits back to rest his head on Leo’s shoulder, and wraps an arm around his waist. 

“Whoa,” Leo removes his arm. “touchy,”

Chris sits down on the worn leather armchair behind them. “He’s like that when he’s drunk,”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Leo says, nodding towards the person on a beanbag in front of them

“Who, Yuuri?”

Victor’s eyes are drawn to the guy who asked, who is rolling a joint on the coffee table. Victor vaguely remembers him from high school, but can’t recall his name in his current state. 

Leo laughs. “Who else would it be?”

Yuuri, apparently, who’s on the beanbag, is too engrossed in Halo to notice that he’s being talked about. Victor’s mind clears for only a moment, trying to remember if he knows this Yuuri.

“I see those gears turning,” Chris taps Victor’s back with his foot. “Do you remember?”

Victor doesn’t respond, just sits back on his palms, fingers digging into the soft carpet, and watches the back of Yuuri’s head. His dark hair moves into the hood of his blue sweatshirt as he tenses, settling further into the beanbag. 

“Leo?” Joint-roller asks, standing up, examining his joint. 

“Phichit?” Leo asks, and Victor repeats the name in his head, promising himself he’ll remember it.

“Wanna put on some music?”

“Yes!” Leo agrees, standing up, Victor weakly whining at the loss of heat at his side. He watches Phichit look around for a lighter, only to grab one from his pocket, and vaguely registers the sound of pop music starting. 

Victor’s startled by Chris’s voice in his left ear. “Got it yet?” He asks.

“No,” Victor tells him, watching Phichit bring the joint to Yuuri. He holds the lighter to the end, watching Yuuri progress on his game. He tries to let Yuuri take a hit out of his hand, but Yuuri declines. 

“Stop it!” He laughs. “Give me a second!”

Phichit takes a hit while he’s waiting, and tells Yuuri, “I know it’s your weed, but you’re taking too long,”

“Okay, okay,” he pauses the game, and straightens up, turning to Phichit at his side, who hands it to him. 

Victor’s heart stops. He doesn’t know how he didn’t recognize his voice, his hair, even the sweatshirt he’s never seen. He watches as Yuuri Katsuki from Emil’s post-senior-prom party takes in smoke, and hands it back to Phichit. Victor gasps, Chris laughs, and all eyes are drawn to Victor as he jumps up, almost losing his balance (if it wasn’t for Chris behind him). “Why didn’t you say it was just sexy messy-drunk Yuuri!” He shouts, throwing out his arms. 

Yuuri’s eyes widen behind his blue-framed glasses as he turns to Victor, and he immediately chokes, coughing out smoke.

“Oh, Vic,” Chris says from behind him, letting him stand up by himself, and he sways in place. Everyone is silent, as Yuuri coughs his lungs out, and Victor stands there wondering exactly what he said wrong. He hasn't processed it yet. A Whitney Huston song comes on. 

“ _Sexy messy-drunk Yuuri?_ “ Yuuri pushes himself up to his feet and turns to Phichit through coughs. Phichit brushes his hair back against his head, shifting uncomfortably. “What is he talking about?” Yuuri presses and Phichit looks everywhere but Yuuri’s eyes. He shrugs like he doesn’t know. Leo inches forward to grab the forgotten joint out of his fingers, trying to be inconspicuous.

“You don’t remember?” Victor asks, and Yuuri shakes his head. “The night of senior prom? Emil’s house? You danced? You danced on me?”

“And me,” Chris adds.

Yuuri looks to Phichit, who’s biting his lip. “Dude,” Yuuri starts slowly, face so hot it almost hurts. “You told me I didn’t do anything stupid,”

“I mean,” Phichit flounders. “you’re a good dancer,”

“Sexy,” Victor repeats. “Sexy as fuck, messy-drunk Yuuri Katsuki.”

In the midst of this surreal event, the door out to the deck opens, and Yuri pokes his head through, looking up from his phone. “Hey, can Otabek come over?”

No one says a word, the attention drawing to him.

He frowns, quirking a brow, eyes shifting. “Did I interrupt something?”

And then, JJ starts laughing. 

Then Emil, and Mickey, followed by Chris, and Victor. Leo giggles, ashing the joint, and Phichit bites his lip, holding back. After a moment he joins in, and eventually, Yuuri too, pressing his blushing face into his hands. 

“Uhm. . . Okay,” Yuri says. “I’m inviting him anyways.” He shuts the door. 

Yuuri collapses back into the beanbag, still laughing into his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Victor says, even though he’s smiling. “I’m really drunk,” He admits, like no one can tell, and JJ claps him hard on the back. 

-

Victor wakes up to Yuri pressing a Crunchwrap Supreme into his face. “Wh’,” he flinches, neck stiff and mouth dry. The carpet is rough against his cheek and his back. He fell asleep on the floor. “Oh no,” he groans. “please tell me no one drew on my face,”

No one says a thing. He sighs. 

“What time is it?” Victor asks. 

He hears Phichit reply, “around two,” It’s earlier than he expected. 

He sits up and stretches, looking down at his bare torso. God, drunk Victor is stupid. Goosebumps cover his arms, and his legs itch under his jeans. “When did I fall asleep?” He asks. It feels like it’s been centuries.

“Eleven?” Chris guesses.

Victor looks around, eyes dry, body weak. Chris is in the armchair, Yuri and Otabek on one side of the couch, Phichit and Yuuri on the other, passing each other their Taco Bell orders as they watch _Diners, Drive-Ins_ and _Dives_. He remembers Chris forcing him to eat some stale hot dog buns, and then falling asleep, after everything that happened. Victor looks down at his lap, blushing. Yikes. 

“I’m gonna grab the bong,” Phichit says, standing up. “Anyone else down?”

Victor gets up to grab his shirt from the kitchen and says, “not Yuri,” before Yuri has a chance to say no himself. 

Sexy messy-drunk Yuuri looks at him, offended. “Who are you to say whether or not—“

“He means me,” Yuri cuts Yuuri off sharply. 

Victor pulls on his shirt and, stretches out, cracking his back. “Even if he wasn’t DD, he shouldn’t be smoking anyways,” Victor grins, stepping towards Yuri, and flicks his nose. Yuri seethes. “drugs are bad for a developing brain. You'll get stupid.” 

“And you stayed sober until you were twenty-one?” Yuri asks, glaring at Victor as he unwraps his burrito. 

“Of course I did.” Which is a lie, but it’s not like he’s going to give Yuri a reason to argue (even though he’s well aware of Yuri’s delinquent activities).

“Then what’s your excuse?” Yuri shoots back, taking a bite.

Everyone laughs, including Victor. Yuri looks satisfied with himself. 

“Burnt,” Phichit grins, going to his room to grab the piece. It leaves a space between Yuri, and Yuuri. Victor glances at Chris, who nods reassuringly, and he moves to take the spot. 

Yuuri physically shies away, tucking his legs to his chest closer, resting a little more into the neckline of his hoodie, not even sparing a glance away from his phone to look at Victor. It makes Victor’s heart race a little, and he really hopes he didn’t fuck things up _too_ bad. He starts the conversation out casually. “Where did the others go?”

“Well,” Yuuri adjusts his glasses, still not looking up. “JJ’s girlfriend picked him up, Leo lives in this building, and Otabek and Yuri dropped Emil and Mickey off when they went to go get food.”

“Ah.” Victor hums, trying to relax. Guy Fieri comments on sauerkraut. Phichit returns with a packed bowl. He eyes Victor but doesn’t say anything. Here goes. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” 

There’s a long pause, where Yuuri’s eyes move across his face. “I want to take you seriously,” Yuuri says, glancing up at his forehead, and it makes Victor's stomach knot with dread. “but you should go check yourself out in the mirror.”

He completely forgot. Groaning, he gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. He dons an eyeliner mustache, a dick on his cheek, and a note across his forehead that reads _Yuuri Katsuki owns me!!!_. He sighs, pumping soap onto his fingers, and getting to work on rubbing it off. With his face in the sink, he wonders who exactly wrote it. Chris is a good guess, as he’s had to live with Victor talking about the one that got away all these years, but it’s not like everyone else doesn’t know about his crush now.

He makes his way back to the living room, drying his face on his shirt, and sits back down. The bong is making its rounds, the air thick with the smell and smoke.

“Better,” Yuuri smiles, and Victor smiles right back.

“As I was saying,” He brushes his wet bangs out of his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Yuuri shrugs. “You were drunk.” Phichit gives Yuuri the piece from where he sits on the floor, pretending to dick around on his phone even though they’re both sure he’s eavesdropping. Yuuri takes a hit, and Victor stares at his lips when he releases it. “And I,” he coughs a little. “am a sexy messy-drunk, apparently. Just like you.” He passes Victor the bong.

“Just like me.” Victor echoes, thinking about how Yuuri just implied that he's sexy. He skips this turn, passing the bong onto Chris.

“I haven’t seen you in a really long time,” Yuuri tells him, and Victor looks in his eyes, wanting to push up his glasses for him. 

“Not since graduation,” Victor thinks about it for a minute, biting his lip. They didn’t really walk the same circles then, despite both skating for their school. Sure, they had some of the same friends, but high school is like that. They were competitors, if anything. He didn’t really think much of Yuuri until that party. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him since. 

“How have things been?” Yuuri’s talking more, which is really nice. Victor feels a little pathetic at the fact that he hasn’t reached out in the past four years. He had no clue Yuuri was even in this state. He stopped lurking on his social media a long time ago. 

“I quit skating and I’m about to receive a _design_ degree.” 

“Ouch,” Yuuri nods empathetically, he’s passed the bong again. "I felt that. I'm in computer science,” he sighs, and then takes a hit. Victor thinks he’s beautiful, but what a ridiculous thing he’s doing to make him think that. He thinks back to the party, Yuuri grinding on him, drunk blubbering about how he always wanted to be his friend. “You want this?” He snaps Victor out of his thoughts as he offers him the piece.

“Only if you light it for me.” He says, without thinking about it. He didn’t intend for it to be flirtatious, but he feels Yuri shift away behind him. That’s just who Victor is as a person.

Yuuri raises his eyebrows, a heavy blush on his cheeks, but does it anyway. It feels strangely and stupidly intimate, and Victor loves every moment of it. 

-

They leave as the sun begins to rise. 

Victor is still high, as he doesn’t smoke very often, and being around Yuuri makes him feel _some_ type of way. He’s crushing hard, and giddy over the fact that he got to put his arm around him while they watched the Food Network. 

Yuri and Otabek seem fine, but Chris is half asleep, complaining that they need to get a move on. Victor would never admit that he’s dragging his feet because he doesn’t want to leave, but he wouldn’t have to. Everyone can tell. 

He’s the last one out the door, lingering because there’s no way he’s going to leave without Yuuri’s number. “Sorry,” he says again, shivering once in the cool morning. “for being so embarrassing.” 

Yuuri just shrugs, clearly tired, hood up, hair a mess. Victor wants to kiss the fuck out of him. “I’m just glad I got to see you again,” Yuuri tells him, cheeks heating.

It makes Victor’s stomach erupt in warm butterflies. He smiles. “I’ll get to see you more, right?” He pulls out his phone and pulls up his contacts, silently congratulating himself for being so smooth. 

Yuuri takes it out of his hands, a heavy blush settling on his face. Their fingers brush, and it makes Victor feel ridiculously sappy. He watches as Yuuri enters his information, and hands it back.

“Get some sleep,” Victor tells him, glancing down Yuuri’s lips as he nods. He wants to kiss him goodbye so fucking bad, but that’s just because he’s thirsty and pathetic. So instead, he tells him, “I’ll see you later.”

Yuuri grins. “See you,” And shuts the door. 

Victor doesn’t know how he’s going to sleep when his heart is racing the way it is. He looks down at his new contact, doing his best to make sure he doesn’t trip down the stairs. **_Sexy-Messy-Drunk Yuuri_** , it reads, and he melts. 

-

Yuuri closes the door to his and Phichit’s apartment, breathing hard.

“Holy shit,” Phichit says, of course, he was lurking right by the entry, listening to it all. “Victor Nikiforov just asked for your number. How do you feel?”

“Uh,” Yuuri draws out. “Am I dead? Did I die after graduation, and I’ve just left purgatory and ascended?” He plops down on the couch and drops his head in his hands. He’s _tired_ , but his heart has been racing for as long as Victor was near him. “I can’t believe I kept my cool,” 

“Yeah, 18-year-old Yuuri would have lost it from the start,” Phichit agrees, sitting next to him. 

“He put his _arm around me_ ,” Yuuri says intensely, carefully, fingers gripping his joggers.

“Indeed he did.”

“I had a crush on him for all of high school, he never said a word to me. Not until Emil’s party, apparently. But that was more of me doing the talking, wasn’t it?” He looks over at Phichit for confirmation.

Phichit nods. “Sorry I didn’t tell you about the dancing. I figured you wouldn’t have wanted to know. You’d have beat yourself up over it.”

Yuuri sighs. “You’re right. It’s probably a good thing I didn’t know.” They sit in silence for a moment, Yuuri replaying all of the night's crazy events. Shirtless Victor in his own apartment, drunk and beautiful, calling him sexy. Sober Victor, apologizing for being embarrassing. High Victor, warm and subtle, catching up with him over _Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives_. It’s crazy and wonderful, and Yuuri has no clue how it happened. “But wow, Victor Nikiforov, huh?”


End file.
